


Gossamer

by SocialBookWorm



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Roman, Based off Asofterfan's AU, Being unable to move, Blood, Gen, Please don't murder me, Removal of wings, Rip poor Roman in this, Roman-centric, Set not long after Accepting Anxiety, Sloth and Envy as the other dark sides, Sloth is not in fact Remy fight me, So much angst, Violence, Wing AU, for a short time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 08:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialBookWorm/pseuds/SocialBookWorm
Summary: Roman claimed it didn't matter, that he was fine and the whole thing had been worth it.But occasionally Virgil would catch sight of him reaching towards his back with such a wistful look on his face-And Virgil knew better.





	Gossamer

**Author's Note:**

> A one shot based off of Asofter fan's Wing AU [It can be found here!](https://asofterfan.tumblr.com/post/177675248118/who-wants-some-more-winged-sides)
> 
> You can't tell me what a character's worst fear is an not expect me to act on it

Roman would proudly admit, loudly and frequently, how much he loved his wings. He could go on and on about the way they reflected light, into a rainbow like the gay he was of course. Full rainbow all the time, people _had_ to pay attention to him when his wings caught the attention of the room. When he flew! He had the smoothest flight out of all the sides, four dragonfly wings, alternating which flapped meant he could hover without moving an _inch_.

However-

However, Roman hated how _delicate_ they were. They didn’t even have the sort of joints that would let him tuck them safely up against his back, at least not without a lot of work. He had to make protection that was specifically for their shape and even then, his wings remained an obvious target along his adventures.

It was simply _frustrating_.

Roman scrubbed at his hair, slamming the door to the Imagination shut behind him. Another fruitless quest, and more nicks and burns along his armor. There was an elegance of battle in the air that he missed because even sparring a simple missed strike could ground him. Tears would heal – Patton had proved that – yet Roman worried that he’d lose them entirely.

Would they even grow back? Or would his back scar over leaving him with an eternal ache and everyone’s pity?

He growled under his breath, storming down the hall. Roman knew that Logan and Virgil adore getting their own wings preened, and Patton never _stopped_ wrapping people in his if he could help it. _Roman_ was the only one with issues.

The only coward.

Roman resisted the urge to kick the wall; Logan had taken offense the last time he had done that. He swerved away from the living room. He didn’t want to upset Patton with his mood, or set off yet another argument with Virgil. They had only _just_ gotten Virgil comfortable enough to leave his room to hang out and Logan had spent what felt like months (“Don’t be ridiculous Roman, it was only four hours”) drilling into his head that he couldn’t upset Virgil.

Roman shoved his hands into his pockets, stalking down the halls with a dark glare. He debated wandering towards the space the dark sides lived to pick a fight with them. A slight breeze rustled his wings, and Roman decided against it. He was reckless but not completely stupid.

The halls stretched on around him, and Roman gritted his teeth. There was a section of the mind palace that he knew twisted and turned with hallways and no real exit. If he turned around it would only be a couple of steps to his own room, but heading forward was an endless journey. Roman didn’t know who it spawned from but he often used it to work off energy when he couldn’t be in the Imagination.

He scowled into the distance. Maybe he should have gone to talk to Patton or Logan about his feelings but at the same time, he wanted to prove that he could take care of himself. He didn’t _need_ them. A Prince could get by on his own.

He took a random turn, wings fluttering with his emotions, much like the dragonflies they came from. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, letting his shoulders slump. Maybe he was just being extra like Logan always said. Taking precautions about his wings was one thing, but throwing tantrums over them was another. He rubbed at his arms, and sighed.

He should just turn back and get a hug from Patton. He’d get cheered up and forget all about his wings until something happened and his frustrations boiled over again. Roman just wanted to curl up with someone and watch Disney for the next couple of hours.

Laughter drifted across the hall and Roman blinked. He was fairly certain that the others were all in the living room. There shouldn’t be anyone out and about. Roman tensed. The only sides would be ones that he shouldn’t run into alone. He could take one or two on, but he was already tired from questing.

If all three were there, Roman would lose.

He hated to be even more of a coward, because no matter how Logan tried to reason it out, running away was also the coward’s option. Roman couldn't take anymore today. He shifted on his heels, wings catching the light as he turned.

He heard the smack of someone hitting someone else.

He turned without thought, feet hitting the ground at a dead run. Dark side or not, Roman refused to just _leave_ someone who needed help behind. His feet pounded along the ground, until they didn’t. He took to the air, wings practically humming as they flapped. Not as fast as Logan, but still pretty good if Roman had any say in it.

Who said dragonflies couldn’t match hummingbirds?

He angled his body forward, cutting around the corner. He brushed past the wall. His hair blew back against the wind and Roman took one simple moment to enjoy the feeling of flying.

Four figures stood at the end of the hall and Roman’s heart rate jumped. Logan and Patton always hung out in the commons at this time. Which left- The white wings caught his eyes, confirming Roman’s guess. _Virgil._

What the hell was Virgil doing alone with the dark sides?

Roman’s eyes flickered over the scene. He took in Virgil’s unnatural stillness, the way that Deceit smirked lazily from the corner and the way Envy loomed over Virgil. Sloth yawned from the other side. Blood dripped from Virgil’s wings. Pieces clicked together.

Anger rose in Roman’s chest. How dare they?! Virgil had proved his worth unlike these cretins! Even at his worst, Anxiety was worth ten of them.

Roman tucked his body close, registering the fact that all except Virgil turned to look at the sound of his approach. He rolled through the air. The turn he executed only worked because of his smooth flight, twisting around so that he slammed feet first into Envy. He planted a hand on the ground to slide to a stop as the dark side flew from the force of his kick. Roman smiled grimly as Envy slammed against the opposite wall.

Roman straightened, taking a swift step back so he stood closer to Virgil and drew his sword.

“Well, well well,” he said, sweeping his other hand out dramatically. His wings flapped restlessly at his back. “if it isn’t the Evil Musketeers! I hate to cut through your fun, I really do, but I’m afraid that Virgil is under my protection now.” His foot slipped back into a steadier position, sword pointed at the biggest threat. Sloth.

“If you want to do anything else, you’ll have to go through me,” Roman declared. His heart pounded in his ears. His muscles ached from the quest he had already gone on for the day. But he couldn’t lose. He wouldn’t.

Deceit snickered. Roman’s eyes flew to him and then back to Sloth. Deceit clapped slowly; Roman’s shoulders twitched at the sound. Virgil’s unmoving body heat behind him kept him planted like a tree. He thought he hear air wheeze out of Virgil’s chest. Probably a complaint, Debby Downer that Virgil was.

“Truly _marvelous_ ,” Deceit said smoothly as he kicked off the wall. Roman shifted so he could keep all three in his sight at once. Envy glared at him. Sloth watched with lidded eyes. “A spectacular entrance, and not _at all_ trite.”

“Why thank you,” Roman grinned. “I do try, and when I try I succeed. As such, I would suggest beating a hasty retreat while you still can.”

Deceit hummed. Roman stared at Sloth as yellow moved across his peripheral. “Because you _would_ leave Virgil behind when he’s stuck.” Deceit smirked, and twirled a knife in his fingers. “Sloth’s effect doesn’t wear off for another few minutes.”

“And you,” Sloth murmured, “Just got back from another quest.”

Ice ran down Roman’s spine. Sweat trickled down his brow. Envy’s face twisted into a smirk, and Roman braced himself.

“I would like to have some fun with swatting a fly,” Envy declared, and Roman dove. A bright light flew past his shoulder. Roman let out a shaky breath, not bothering to stop and catch his breath.

He rolled, scrambling back as Deceit’s knife flashed. He swung his own kattana upwards, buying himself the space to get to his feet. He danced backwards out of Envy’s reach and spun up and around Deceit. His wings flapped as he brushed neatly over the dark side’s head.

He almost thought that he would manage this. He jerked back, taking even more to the air as Envy chased up upwards. He grinned. Roman’s smooth flight startled the dark side, and Roman pressed his advantage. His sword slashed. Blood dropped to the floor as Envy gripped his arm with a snarl.

Roman flit through the air, turning to check on Virgil. Deceit’s smirk crossed his vision. Roman snarled. He dove towards the threat. Metal screeched against metal. Roman pushed Deceit back, hovering in the air. The flap of Deceit’s wings ruffled his hair. Roman’s arm shook but he ignored it. He had faced worse.

This was for Virgil.

“It seems that you really _have_ bested us,” Deceit said, mouth curling up into a smug smile. Roman hesitated a split second too long. Sorting truth from the lies was never his strong suit. His mistake hit him in the chest, quite literally.

Sloth.

A scream echoed through the hallway and Roman spun.

“ROMAN!”

His eyes locked with Sloth as a beam of light hit him square in the chest. His muscles locked up. Everything froze. Roman plummeted towards the ground.

He hit the ground with an ugly thump and crack. Pain laced up his shoulder as it cracked against the ground. A scream of pain lodged in his throat. His sword skittered across the ground away from him. He willed himself to reach for it; his hand twitched and moved no further. The floor pressed against his cheek, cold and unyielding.

Footsteps circled him, and his stomach protested his helplessness.

“What the fuck Sloth?” Envy snapped. Roman struggled to move. He needed to see, needed to get back up and fight. Every limb felt like it was wrapped in taffy and dipped in tar. “I thought you said that he’d be stuck like that for another hour at least!”

“He should be.” The footsteps moved away from him and Roman wanted to scream. His wings stuttered, a barely visible movement compared to the sprawl he was stuck in. If they did anything to Virgil, stuck or not, Roman was going to throw them to the Dragon Witch and laugh as she had her way with them.

“He looks so energetic,” Deceit drawled. Roman’s foot scraped against the ground. He gritted his teeth. _Move_ ! He yelled at himself. His head turned just enough that he could see the dark sides huddled around Virgil. Deceit tapped Virgil’s cheek. “They _haven’t_ been getting to him lately. I _doubt_ that they’ve been rubbing off on him.”

Virgil’s eyes meet Roman’s. Anger and terror swirled in their depths. Roman agreed.

Deceit turned away from Virgil, scanning Roman’s prone form with a grin that made Roman’s skin crawl. Roman loathed that he couldn’t lean away as the snake approached. Deceit leaned over him and chuckled.

“A little bug caught in our net. With such _ugly_ wings too,” Deceit practically purred. Roman was going to run him through with a sword. Just as soon as he was able. He twitched as Deceit’s hand approached his wings, and hated the contemplative look that Deceit leveled him with.

“Passion’s hard to pin down,” Sloth murmured. His footsteps shuffled over and Roman wanted to shout at him to have some pride. To _do_ something for once. Virgil was one thing, at least Virgil _cared_ about what even weird terror ran through his mind. He fought for thing. Sloth just let life drift right on by.

Sloth bent down over him, running a hand over his shoulder. “I can’t hold him for long.”

Roman’s breath left him in a gasp as a foot collided with his back. The world turned dark as his  nose bent awkwardly against the ground. Envy stepped on his back, pressing down painfully against his wings. Roman wanted to writhe, to pull away from the growing steady pain.

“It’s not fuckin fair,” Envy snarled. He stomped down, and Roman wanted to scream against the pain once more. He felt something snap in his wing joints, his upper left wing bending down as it broke. “ _He_ gets wings like this. _He_ gets built in immunity to Sloth’s ray. _I_ say we level the playing field.”

Romans’s hands curled against the floor. A little bit more. He just needed to push a little bit more and then he could fight back.

“I know how you keep a _bug_ in place,” Envy said. The ringing in Roman’s ears grew as the slow slide of a sword being drawn echoed through the hallway. “You _pin_ them just like Deceit said.”

Fire erupted along his waist. His vision whited out; his entire world focusing on the point of pain along his back. He couldn’t escape. Roman wanted to curl up and protect himself but he could barely drag his arms closer to himself. Every movement, from his arms to Envy’s laughter vibrating against his back, sent a wave of coals over the remnants of the fire.

Distantly, he realized that tears ran down his face. His entire body trembled, and it only made the agony worse. Karma was a bitch. Roman enjoyed being on the other end of the stabbing more. This was a fate for a villian, not for someone like him!

“Oh yes Virgil,” Deceit’s voice sounded like it came from the other end of a tunnel. Or the bottom of a well. Perhaps a long cave, which Logan might have argued was a tunnel. Logan might have also told him wandering thoughts were a sign of shock. “I’m _sure_ that at the rate you’re moving you’ll be able to save him. Do keep trying, it’s _utterly boring_.”

“Hey, hey, hey, you know what would be cool?” Roman blinked, trying to drag himself out of the fog he found his mind wrapped in. There was something wrong with Envy’s tone. Terror crept into his chest, hesitant and unsure.

“No,” Sloth said dully, “And I don’t care. Can we wrap this up? You promised me a nap after this.”

“Whatever you killjoy, _I_ want that nap-” Envy cut himself off and Roman shuddered as hands ran down the length of his wings- “And I want some new decorations for my room.”

If Roman had thought the pain of being stabbed was bad, he quickly found himself corrected. Envy’s hands wrapped around the base of his broken wing and Roman barely had enough time to form a coherent thought of _no_ before the world shattered around him. Muscle and bone, fragile though it was, tore away with a sickly _snap_.

Roman screamed.

A long broken sound clawed from his throat as he lost the words to describe what his shoulder felt like. Sloth’s control broke, leaving him shuddering against the ground. He clawed at the ground, nails catching on the floorboards. Nothing helped.

Envy’s cackled. Blood ran down Roman’s back, pooling with the puddle already beneath him. He shook his head, denial already clawing up his throat. Roman turned towards Virgil, towards the only source of comfort he had in the room.

Virgil only made it worse. The helplessness in his eyes lodged in Roman’s chest, stopping up any hope he had of this being a nightmare. He reached in Virgil’s direction. Guilt, he didn’t want Virgil to feel _guilty-_

His thoughts scattered like plot bunnies. He screamed again; Envy tore out his other left wing. His hand fell to the floor. His back tingled, growing slowly numb against the insistent pain. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breath. The pain encompassed him, leaving nothing but her loving embrace.

He thought he saw Virgil’s face twist; he thought he saw Virgil take a laborious step forward.

Roman closed his eyes in resignation as Envy’s hand wrapped around the first of his right wings. A small hysterical part of him pointed out that at least this way he’d match. Might as well avoid being lopsided! And hey! He could finally wear those clothes with actual backs!

Roman’s legs spasmed across the ground. Iron hung heavy in the back of his throat and in his nose. The air brushed along the gashes on his back, a cold, impersonal comfort to his pain. Exhaustion pulled at him; Roman wondered if it was what Sloth always felt like. The constant need to nap made more sense now.

Compared to the others, his final wing disappeared with what felt like little fanfare. Roman danced with pain; he took her waltzing along his best ballroom, and she wasn’t planning on leaving for the night. The grief, well the grief hung heavy in the shadows waiting for the shock to pass before it could truly sink its claws into Roman’s heart.

Wingless. So much for _flights_ of fancy. His vision swam, and Roman longed for unconsciousness. He barely noticed Envy’s foot finally leaving his back. The footsteps leaving took second to trying to find the right words. Deceit leaning over Virgil warranted some attention. Roman mutely hoped he wasn’t planning anything.

Trying to get up now would be a pain. For some reason Roman knew that Patton wouldn’t be a fan of his latest puns. Pity. Roman certainly felt like laughing.

Roman blinked sluggishly as Deceit tapped Virgil’s cheek with a bloody hand. “I _didn’t_ have fun today,” Deceit hissed. “Let’s _not_ do this again sometime.”

Cackles faded through the halls, and as they left his sight, Roman finally let his eyes slip close once more. He took a deep breath that rattled in his chest. God, he hoped that Logan and Patton came looking for them soon, being pinned to the ground would rapidly lose all appeal once he got bored. Not that it ever had appeal.

He let a hysterical giggle slip through his lips.

“Well,” he croaked out, “At least I- I don’t have to worry about damaging my wings anymore.”


End file.
